Disclaimer: This tag game is meant for girls only. The reason for having this magic wand tag is that guys only work from 9 to 5 a day, whereas the girls work from 9 to 9 and another 9 to 9, so we need magic wands to help reduce some work load.

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Wish # 1: If I had a magic wand, I’d instantly swoosh it and make my room tidier. I’m so bored of always seeing my room in a mess that I want to give it a new look – a sparkling, neat and tidy one maybe. And is there any way I can plastic coat everything so I don’t see any tiny stain on them, is there?!

Wish # 2: Oh and also to have a solution to this overflowing closet of mine. I wonder where did all these clothes and socks come from. Maybe I need to hire a person to somehow manage this thing – like the one who could make pairs (or triplaires) of them and hang them neatly inside. (No, I won’t provide extra hangers). Cuz you know it sprains my muscles every time I try to push that truckload back in its place. And then it all comes back falling on me. God, is there a spring inside or what?!

Wish # 3: For the past couple of days I’ve been desperately wanting to have a violin (and of course knowing how to play it). Imagine how cool it would be if I had an occultist wand and I’d magically twirl it in the air and have the finest of violins right on my shoulder and a brain all tuned to play it! Wow. [Not to forget some cool breeze to help sway my long, straightened hair – only if they don’t get stuck in the violin strings.] Sheesh! That’s scary now!

Wish # 4: Okay. So this thing is bugging me the most! I’ve been reading the last book of the Shopaholic Series and I really want to track down darn Luke and bash him for being such a treacherous husband! I mean look at Becky, she’s so nice and understanding and he’s taking advantage of her! Stupid meanie jerk! So what if he’s so smart and handsome and such a successful businessman, I still want to tell him what a moron he is! I just wonder why all these men (excluding my fiancé) are such jerks?! Grrr.

Okay, enough with this Luke-Brandon bashing session before I totally lose control and forget my other important wishes.

Wish # 5: I so wish to own a chocolate factory :( A few years back I made this tiny little wish to have atleast a single box of chocos in the fridge ‘at all times’. And it has always been granted – be it in the form of cooking chocolate or in the form of Hershey’s, or Ferreros, or Dairy Milk, or Snickers, (no, not Bounty) or Galaxy, or Dove, or…okay I stop! Getting back to the wish, I just realized that I can’t have so many refrigerators in my home, so why not go for just a single little chocolate factory. No harm in it, right?

Wish # 6: Right now I’m so madly badly craving for…for nothing else but mangoes! I mean why can’t we have mangoes all round the year? I so want to have frangrant, neatly cut squared pieces of mangoes right now. Or even a mango milkshake. Or a mango mousse maybe. Or anything mango! And no, I don’t want to have mango icecream! Icecreams should only be made of chocolates and of course Blueberries, but not of mangoes or strawberries. Eeek!

Wish # 7: Okay, so here comes the real wish. To cut the above-mentioned mangoes in neat square pieces, I’d be needing a huge, stylish, state-of-the-art kitchen, with all the gadgets one can dream of! I’d practically love to have a kitchen that has things ranging from an Eiffel-Tower cookie cutter to a huge, stuffed pantry – the kind Nigella Lawson owns. *Droooooooooools* Oh, and there should be this exclusive, glossy, round table where I could put my iPad and scroll through all the yummy recipes I’d be trying. Wow! [Shh, the little iPad is just a tiny wish I need to get fulfilled with a bigger one. I hope I do get it]

Wish # 8: Like yesterday I was passing by a home and I saw this nice little aquarium with the most darling fish in it. [For me, the plural of fish is fish. You may go calling them fishes, but I like fish! Like sheep; sheep and hair; hair, so fish; fish! End of story!] Okay, so I want this aquarium of mine to be the size of Indian Ocean with a small island in the middle. After all, I’d be needing a place to view my fish from!

Wish # 9: God, before these 10 golden wishes of mine end, I just want to swivel my wand for a DSLR. Yes, DSLR is one thing I’ve been craving since birth. I mean, not exactly, but … you do get the point, right? So, a DSLR please?

Wish # 10: NOW WOULD SOMEBODY GET ME THIS DARN MAGIC WAND BEFORE I COMPLETELY FREAK OUT?!

Since childhood I craved to wear specs. I remember when at the age of 6 I first went to our Eye Specialist's office. After my parents' and siblings' eyes were tested, I was called. So I sat on the revolving stool and in a confident and triumphant manner read the whole board in the mirror. The Doctor uncle was shocked as I was reading the last 2 lines faintly visible (to him).

He then exclaimed to my dad, "Your daughter has a perfect 6x6 eyesight. She might never need glasses". The innocent Dinky Mind didn't understand this compliment and felt very dejected cuz she always wanted to wear specs :( I spent 6 years of my early life watching TV from a distance of 1.5 feet, reading books in dim lights, wearing my sista's specs and daddy's reading glasses to somehow weaken my eyesight, and even at times pretending to be partially blind! And that's what I got??? Imagine my feelings when I saw all my plans going straight down the drain *sniffs sniffs* Later when I got home I wished I had misread the board - reading W as M or V as A *sigh*

Anyway, time passed by and I gave up my desire of being specsified till day before yesterday :) Yes, I went to get my bro's eyes checked and got mine tested as well. So then the optician uncle asked me to read the last 2-3 (English alphabet) lines, which were divided in 3 columns

Me: "m. q. d...."Him: "Tsk tsk... You've got a verrrrry weak eyesight"Me: "Noooo! It really is 'm. q. d'. Honestly, I'm not making it up!"Him: *pointing at the third column* "Read from here"Me: *grrr* "h. w. p. r. i"Him: *changing a glass on one of my eyes* "Now read the last line"Me: *making up the alphabets this time* "1. b. a..."Him: *changing the glass again to a higher sensitivity one*Me: *head spinning* "Noooo... Remove it please. I'm not that blind!!!"

So after shuffling the glasses and making me read the whole darn A-B-C board, he finally declared my eyesight to be slightly weak! And yours truly finally got a number of 0.75, :) which, according to my Mommy, can be improved with a few kilos of carrots. Carrots, *sigh* :o( Specsies, *yay* :o)

The younger male population of our country is traumatized by job hunt, and their moms are worried about finding the perfect girl for them. In short, there's a lot of emotional commotion around us.

The general definition of a "perfect girl" includes traits such as "... smart (not fatty AT ALL), young, pretty, has long hair, tall, well-educated, perfect in all household chores, friendly and on top of all, FAIR!" The perfect girl is one having all these attributes. All the other girls can go to ... wherever they like!

CHAPTER 1:

While running down the stairs after class, Sammy and I were hoping to find the Xerox shop a bit less crowded. After a few more steps, I realized I was striding alone without my accomplice. So I turned around and found her having a chat with an aunty and a girl (apparently her daughter). I headed back to find the cause of delay and what happened next is as follows:

Aunty *in a well-composed manner*: "My son has done CA and is very intelligent. And we are looking for a girl for him."
Sammy and I took a half step back and tried to wave our left hands and get them notice our engagement rings. Thankfully they did.The Daughter: "We are looking for a very pretty girl and of course IBA produces intelligent girls."Sammy and I *forcing a smile*: "Indeed"The Daughter *all excited*: "So how's that brown culottes wali girl? You guys know her?"
I scanned the area for the brown culottes wali girl but she was to be seen nowhere.Me: "Umm, where exactly?" [Yeah, yeah, I was starting to enjoy it all :P]The Daughter: "Oh, she's gone actually!"Me *mumbles* : "Very well. And you expect us to recognize girls by their colored culottes and not by their faces?"The Daughter: "So, you know her? We want a pretty one actually"Me: "Well, there's a truckload of girls here. And sadly we don't know each one of them" :)Sammy: "Yeah, we've actually got more boys than girls here"Aunty: "So you're in 1st year of studies?"Sammy: "No, no, no... In the last one actually and it's the 2nd one as well" :)Aunty: "So you know any pretty girl here... someone you can suggest?"
[Aunty free hoing now. So we tried to cut short the story and Sammy came up with something out of nowhere]Sammy: "Aunty, actually I'm also looking for girls"
I quickly turned sideways to hide my laughter. Who is she looking girls for????

Somehow we managed to end the convo right there and move on, giving them a polite gesture that we can't help them :) And all this time I wondering how did they manage to get into the premises? I mean what did they say to the guards, 'We're here to find a pretty girl for my CA son?' :)

"I also believe that parents, if they love you, will hold you up safely, above their swirling waters, and sometimes that means you'll never know what they endured, and you may treat them unkindly, in a way you otherwise wouldn't."

In the book, "For One More Day" by Mitch Albom, the writer had written short incidents between chapters which were titled as "Times My Mother Stood Up For Me" and "Times I Did Not Stand Up For My Mother". Pretty tragic and heart-wrenching stories were these. The kind of selfless love a mother showers on her children has never been described so beautifully before. So, while reading the book I was analyzing that there are a quart million times when my Mother stood up for me, and not even a quart time when I stood up for her!

I feel like a little child again who wants her mother back by any way! I can hardly wait for these 8 days for her to return home.

"Have you ever lost someone you love and wanted one more conversation, one more chance to make up for the time when you thought they would be here forever? If so, then you know you can go your whole life collecting days, and none will outweigh the one you wish you had back."

I hold a world record for sleeping before anyone else even thinks of yawning. And when it comes to putting the kids to sleep, I put my hand on their eyes and start snoring - first jhoot moot ka, and then sach much ka! But sadly it never works.

Since we're living in 21st century, we've got extra smarty, modern bachay. They don't sleep that easily. Or maybe I'm transferring my blame on them :$ I remember once putting Ashoo to sleep and before she could sleep, I was already sound asleep :) And after a while when she woke up and started crying and screaming at the top of her lungs, mum came upstairs to rescue her, and even then I was still sleeping like ... a baby? :)

A few days back I was charged with the most difficult responsibility to put Ashoo and Umer to sleep. I mean, imagine... TWO kids! The best thing about them is when one goes to sleep, the other one automatically sleeps within the next 15-20 minutes :) How sweet and easy. But you never know which one of them should you sing lullabies to first! :) So that day I decided to put both kids on each side. I made up a trillion and three stories - ranging from princess to lions and stars to jin bhoots. And then I was asked to sing all the poems of the world. And luckily or unluckily I have memorized quite a lot of poems, thanks to our Music Teacher. The kids were apparently in no mood to sleep and I, as usual, was at the peak of it! So instead of repeating the painful history, I came up with an idea. Umer has a habit of pinching his mamma's neck while sleeping, so I hollered which cutie baby is going to sleep that way. And both the kids attacked my tiny neck. Yikes! That was a bad option! They slapped, pinched and tickled it. And all three of us were laughing madly! :D And after 15 minutes my dearie momma entered the room and stared and I had to hush both of them down. Finally Umer slept! *phew*

I'm proud to announce today that I am one of those who have never ever Ever - EVER - tasted chai! [And are not even dying to taste it] =) Certainly I deserve an Oscar for restraining myself form such an addictive thing, but well, society's acceptance is the only thing I need at present.

At my workplace, chai, paaniand bey-izzati are completely free! So you can imagine how much chai those chai addicts consume. While "working" that day, the tea-boy came with a tray full of chai cups. [Yes, I love the word 'chai', and not the word 'tea'].

I'm NOT a coffee addict. I just need it to wipe sleep off my eyes, and that too at 11:30 am ONLY. And this silly tea-boy makes the coffee so dead sweet, it tastes awful! And since he's the only one who knows how to make coffee, the day he doesn't come, I spend my day yawning! =(

One thing that gives me the creeps is when people repeatedly dip the teabag in cup and make it drain its essence. And in the end, they just stir their tea, put the dead teabag on spoon and squeeze it with the thread once - twice - and thrice!!! My Goddd!!! At least show some clemency to that poor teabag. Kitna nichoro gey usay??? People just don't realize what creepy thing they do just to extract a few more droplets out of the dying teabag. It's so sick! And you, my dear chai-aholics, if you do that, I request you to puhleaseee stop doing it. It's so nauseating! Blukh! Try keeping the teabag in the cup. The last sip doesn't become that strong, I'm sure.

There are more workplace stories to share. But this makes me wonder am I the only one in this world who doesn't drink tea? No! But I'm surely the only one at my workplace who doesn't drink tea. Accept it people, I can stay awake without chai! Why else do you think God created coffee? ;)

My mother was always writing me notes. She slipped them to me whenever she dropped me somewhere. I never understood this, since anything she had to say she could have said right then and saved herself the paper and the awful taste of envelope glue.

I think the first note was on my first day of kindergarten in 1954. What was I, five years old? The schoolyard was filled with kids, shrieking and running around. We approached, me holding my mother's hand, as a woman in a black beret formed lines in front of the teachers. I saw the other mothers kissing their kids and walking away. I must have started crying.

She smiled. She reached inside her jacket pocket and handed me a small blue envelope.
"Here," she said. If you miss me really badly, you can open this."

She wiped my eyes with a tissue from her purse, then hugged my good-bye. I can still see her walking backward, blowing me kisses, her lips painted in red Revlon, her hair swept up above her ears. I waved good-bye with the letter. It didn't occur to her, I guess, that I was just starting school and didn't know how to read. That was my mother. It was the thought that counted.

For One More Dayby Mitch Albom.

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Finished reading Tuesdays With Morrie and For One More Day by Mitch Albom. These were one of those best books I've read till today. And these books have ignited my love for reading more and more books. Someday I'd surely rob Liberty Books.

And Sophie Kinsella, I'm coming to read the whole of Shopaholic series. =D

Remember I mentioned about parlor blues in my last post. I'm the one who's very happy with a gloss and a kajal eyeliner. C'est tout! I don't have a habit of wearing makeover at all. The max I can go is wear an eyeliner, though I never feel the need of it. So, that day when I had to get ready for my big day, I went for makeover. I had asked the beautician for a soft - real soft type - but she glared at me in a manner that was enough for me to stay quiet for the rest of the time. Becoming a prospective bride has its own tiny drawbacks. But the makeover wasn't all that bad. She did a good job. Too bad, I already have a chubby face which looks more inflated (and baked) in pictures! Bahhhh!

Anyway, coming to the hair styling part. Avid readers of this blog know how much care do I take of my 6 hair. Well, of course, I'm exaggerating here, in reality I've got 4.5 hair* (yep, 0.5 means fringes/bangs). That day I had shampooed my hair twice (to completely get rid of the oil) and then conditioned them well. So at the parlor, the hair stylist made a ponytail of half of my hair. And guess what, she used a RUBBER BAND!!!! Imagine that! I was silently sobbing as to how I'd get rid of that thing =( It's like getting a chewing gum stuck in your dental braces. I've been through this situation so it's not at all a bad analogy. Then she made a very nice hair bun, but sadly the bun got covered with my beautifully heavy dupatta. Making that bun required a filthy huge stock of hair pins. Half the pins were directly hitting my scalp like a sharp blade and I would just wince quietly. And in the end, she sprayed a nice topping of hairspray. And my hair became all stiff and artificial.

So when I got back home and planned to untie my hair, the first thing I had to do was to pull out all the hair pins carefully. Know what, they all totaled to 45! Forty-five pins in 4.5 hair! *Zulm* [I counted them because curiosity was killing me] =P And then I saw my ponytail and that killer rubber band. I asked Lala to get that thing off my hair and she did a wise thing. She took a pair of scissors and carefully cut it. By 'it' I mean the band, just in case you're still wondering =P The hard, sprayed hair were so annoying me, I at once went to shampoo and condition them for the 3rd time in 6 hours. And then I slept peacefully. Ahh!

So this was a sweetly sad story of my delicate hair.

Cheerio folks =)

PS: Benty just came online and she asked me about Mr. Dinky Mind. Haha.. I like the name!

Okay, starting from when the things got finalized and we had to rush to malls and caterers to finalize things there. It was a hectic, but a fun-packed job. And I badly prayed for things to go smooth. Being a perfectionist I really disliked when it rained yesterday. I mean you know how much I love rains but yesterday was a different story =P And Alhamdolillah it didn't rain during the big event =D See, my prayers do get answered real quick! Alhamdolillah. Okay, back to the pre-engagement fun. So, 2 days before the Big Day, my cousins and relatives organized a mini dholki at our place and it was huge fun! All (exclude me) danced madly. Like real madly! And we sung songs on dholl, the real fun type songs. Haha.

The next day I got hennafied. Momma fed me dinner. That was the best part of the whole day. I was acting like a princess. Hehe. I mean sitting at one place and getting my work done by others. That was amazing for a few hours but after that I got tired of not doing work myself. I'm stupid. Thankyouverymuch.

That day my dress and things came as well. And the packing was ammmazing MashAllah. We also packed "his" stuff that day. Took loadsa pictures. And the thing that was itching me the most was the camera was not in my hands. Being hennafied has its own disadvantages.

Okay wrapping up this section and going to the next one now. But wait, the beauty parlor story is left. But it's a very comprehensive one, which will be described by pictures.

Engagement:

So the big day was here and I was completely sleep deprived. I slept at 4 am and woke up after exactly 2 hours. I just couldn't sleep anymore. Anyway, I was forced to take a nap at 3 pm which was pretty helpful.

So when I entered the lawn, I really admired the decoration and I was itching to take pictures of the place and flowers. *sigh* mein aisi kyun houn? For a good lot of time I was comfily seated inside the ... uh, bridal room. Got pictures there. And there was a funny scene. The glass doors of that room were covered with curtains. I was seated on an armchair under the fan and from that angle I was able to see people outside in the lawn. And guess what, the only "people" I could see was "him"!!!! So what would you call that, a mere coincidence? =P

Then when the time came for the ceremony and when he held my hand to slide the ring in my finger, my heart stopped beating. Pakka I'm not exaggerating here. It was a very very different feeling. My legs froze and became rock-hard. Although he did try to keep me at ease with small conversations before the big moment, but at that very moment, I got so ... No, I can't describe that feeling anymore. No more adjectives left now. But I must say it was awesome! MashAllah. =) I had decided I was not going to get nervous but... well, those who have experienced it know very well how it feels. And now I laugh at my awkward feeling. Haha. Us waqt to jaan nikli hui thi =D

Oh, and there are other funny stories related to the event =P But of course, I can't post them all over here. Because, that would make the post too lengthy then. Haha.

All in all, the ceremony went awesome-ish. Alhamdolillah. And I slept at 4 am last night.

Tomorrow I'd be free. From my exams, I mean. And once you're approaching the end, you want to quickly get over with it. Similar is the case with me. I'm literally torn. Oh yes, I'm again exaggerating here. The way I studied for my 1st sem exams was half of how I studied for the entry test. Lol. And the way I studied for these 2nd sem exams is quart of ... err... let's stop this math.

So well, back to the point. Tomorrow is my Business Strategy's exam. My strategy for this last exam was not to study for it till the very last day. So, when at 7:30 pm I finally decided to pick up books and start flipping pages, I realized I've lost (let's say, misplaced) my book. And well, 40% of the exam is coming from the book. At first I thought 'Dayum, I'm doomed' and started looking for it under the K2 of my books and papers. But this fervent search went futile. Later I even searched Bushi's school bag, for if 'by mistake' my book hopped and slid into his bag, but there were drawing sheets and test papers. No book.

Being a positive thinker, I decided to stop fretting about it. After all, Har kaam mein Allah ki maslihat hoti hay. [Ah, how well this statement fits here]. Hehe. I then decided to tune my brain to the Business Strategy station and tried to recall what I had studied in the past 4-5 months. But there was a connection error and my poor Dinky Mind failed to help me out. No. No sighs.

Today I've learned not to fret unnecessarily on lost things, especially course books. Because God helps those who help themselves =P *lalalala. Dances and runs away*

Cheerio folks =)

PS: Keep praying. I know I can't maintain my good GPA but I don't even want it to drop to 3 or... *shudders*

I know this is grammatically wrong, but who cares. When I say dimagh "ki" dahi, I'm right. No arguments. Period.

Oh, and the biggest (and sole) ingredient in this dahi is MacroEc....no no no... it's Global Economics! [Dayum, I've even forgotten the name of this darn course]. Anyway, I've got GE's exam tomorrow, and I've got a filthy long list of chapters to study. Well, with the exam scheduled right after 8 hours, I have somehow managed to "read" those chapters. Focus on the word read here. Numericals and MCQ prep and all the blah blah blah shit is still left. *sniffs* But I don't care. A normal person should have a good 8-hour sleep. And I'm not going to waste a single second of that 8-hour precious sleep time on this stupid book and the über stupid handouts and .pptx. *sniffs*

Our proffy wanted us to "just" understand the graphs, get the basic concepts and well, c'est tout! But it ain't as easy as it sounds. And here is the picture of that killer graph. I tried reading this graph with all my concentration. Half-way I almost even tuned my brain to understand the concept. But then the explanation (of the graph) started getting twisted and I completely lost the whole of it! *ARGH* What the heck was the writer thinking when he was writing that? Idiot! Sara time waste ker dia!

So, I went to wash my face and planned to start with a clean, blank brain. Flipped a few pages and found another graph (the one on right). But it was as obnoxious as the previous one. In short, the whole book is a huge pain in the neck!

To sum up this course, and the book, our CR provided a very good gist."This increase, that will fall, but that fall will increase as this fall also increases. The net effect is an increase in the fall and of this with that remaining constant!"

Yes, my dear readers, the course, the book, the instructor, all are as confusing as the two lines above =)

Prayers needed.

Cheerio folks =)

PS: I'm having this miserable flu. And this tissue box is about to go empty =( *sniffs*

At the end of my post What's Next I, I wrote "14 hours are still left". This post is about how those 14 hours stretched into the most irritating ...*counts on fingers* .... almost 200 hours! Scary, eh? Read on...

* That day while walking behind a girl, I accidently stepped on her foot, and she stumbled and jerked badly. So before she could turn around and kill me with her glares (or a similar act), I stepped a foot to my left, and started looking even more sideways. Heheh.... I is evil, I knows! =P

* Now comes the BIGGEST bad-est news!!! My Mac Delight crashed! Could you just believe it??? At least I wasn't able to digest this news! It all started with Mac slowing down, as you say "hang ho-ing" for Windows, the same happened with my dearie baby Mac. So, I searched the internet but couldn't find any remedy, because it's a rareeeee problem. I contacted Mac gurus at Apple Store, and they advised me to reinstall OS X. But before I could do, I saw this error on the screen:

NTLDR is missingPress Alt+Ctrl+Del to restart...

See, it's a typical Window-ish error! Where on earth should I locate these three darn keys on my infected baby Mac? =( My bad luck was when I bought my Mac Delight, I asked them to install Windows on it too (though I never used it) and that stupid Windows silently infected my dearie machine. Errrr.... Stupid Windows. Silly Bill Gates!

After more than a week, today when I went to collect my machine from the store, I was informed my machine has been upgraded from 160 GB HD to a 250 GB HD =) and OS has been upgraded from Leopard to Snow Leopard [and it again got degraded to Leopard because the darn Worldcall Wireless internet USB doesn't work on Snow Leopard]. *sigh* *BIG, HUGE SIGH* Why doesn't the world upgrade their systems and technologies???? I was getting a complimentary Snow Leopard, and these Worldcall people spoiled the whole deal! Grrrr.

Oh, and my Momma almost killed me with all those horrible hourly scolding sessions. At first I tried to say, "Allah ki maslihat hogi", but then I realized I better accept my mistake. See, Windows people, I had to take your darn fault on myself.

Aray, and do you know all my data has been lost as well. WINDOWS, I HATE YOU!!!!!

I woke up well before time. And I didn't feel sleepy at all although I knew 45 minutes were still there before the alarm could go mad.

Whenever I leave home I mentally make a check of three essential things - IBA ID card, wallet, cell phone. Yesterday I added two more things to the list; cash and documents. And this morning this Dinky Mind forgot this tiny mental note. *sigh*

When I was 5 minute-drive away from my uni, my car *accidentally* went over a puppy! I mean I was driving on a pretty wide road, in the first lane, and from a distance I saw a kid and a doggy running to cross the road. I also noticed 2 puppies on the green belt who did not move to cross. And since I cannot see the road properly while driving in my jahaaz-like car, I didn't notice when the poor puppy jumped out on the road and then I heard a loud *bump*. Eeeekkkk! I heard a few bones getting crushed beneath the front left tyre. It was dead scary. I started palpitating badly. And for the next 5 minutes till I safely parked the car I felt equally terrible. Oh, and the puppy didn't die. Thank God!!!! From the rear-view mirror I saw it getting up and limping to the other side of the road. *phew*

When I got off the shuttle at our uni gate, there are movable 3-feet tall iron fences attached to each other by iron chains. I wonder why I was looking at my left side and walking so blindly that I bumped into one of the poles of that fence and with a tannnn sound it fell on the concrete. Without being embarrassed or looking up at who noticed my stupid act, I casually picked it up as if someone else had knocked it down and walked away. Hehe =P

I just hope nothing awkward happens now. 14 hours are still to go before this day could end =(

I had my internship interview at RBS today. It is always advised to check the organization's website (at least) before going to the interview. I did decide to check it but having a goldfish memory this innocent Dinky Mind plainly forgot to check it =( Anyway, I have come to the conclusion that every interview for which I go unprepared I tend to ace it. Focus on the word 'tend', please. Instead of getting worried for being unprepared, I act more care-free type. I don't know why. There really is something wrong with my brain :/ Kuch to ulta hay!

I reached there 10 minutes before time. Signed my name on the list on the 1st reception and headed towards the 2nd reception. The guy over there checked the list and said my name was not in the 11 am slot :/ I asked him to check again. He again said no. But well, do I care? People really don't register my name well in their minds. So I went to the waiting area and sat comfily in the couch and started admiring the architecture and greenery of the building. Then I started bugging the girls sitting next to me. And one of them was the one I met at Brandorama '10, and I didn't even recognize her. Brandorama was held around 2 months ago and I forgot her. And to my surprise she not only remembered my face but my name as well! Inteha-e-afsos for me! The other girl was from City and since I had never seen her before I don't feel ashamed. Haha.

While waiting for our group interview to begin, the City Girl, Maimoona, and I started talking about different stuff. We started off with 'What services does RBS provides' to finding out our common friends, then weddings and finally ended our convo with ketchups, chili garlic sauces and the new Garlic-Mayo dip. Yeah, yeah, we're the perfect girls! We just can't resist bringing up such topics in our convos.

During the interview I involuntarily entertained the interviewers, or maybe they were the extra jolly kind. Anyway, before the end of the interview, they asked us if there was anything we wanted to ask them. And I innocently asked them when do I expect the confirmation call. =$

Either the panel was very good or was it my impressive personality [:P] that three hours after the interview I did get a confirmation call =P Haha. Dinky Mind rulzzzz =P

Sammy: "Arsalan, if you're going to the class, could you please bring me my notebook?"Arsalan: "What color is it?"Sammy: "Fawn"Arsalan: "FAWN??? What on earth is this color?"

I won't straightaway say boys are colorblind, they're just awful in recognizing colors. Yes, being a girl I'm supporting Sammy here! So, if you're a guy, don't read any further.

Girls are so cool cuz they know which color is what. They know the difference between Pink, Lilac, Mauve and Purple. They know what rust color is and how camel color (and caramel color) is better than plain brown. They can well differentiate between shades of green - which one is mint green and which one is olive green. We girls have played with sets of 72 pastel colors in our childhood. So it's better you guys don't argue about colors with us.

Oh, I see guys are still reading. Well, you guys really want to learn shades of colors. Oh, I know you might argue that talking in shades of colors is so girlish, but hey, we girls also know the more-than-basics of your favorite sports cars, or any other car. At least we don't confuse break with clutch and handbrake with accelerator. We also know if your favorite car is metallic black or a mustard yellow Mustang. Oops, I'm talking about colors again. But well, we even know the names of many of those cars. Wow. We girls are so much better! =P And you guys.... *sigh*... learn at least a few basic colors. Go beyond the primary and secondary colors please. =P

I'm not the type who celebrates her Independence Day when her exams are over, because I always watch movies and go out on shopping sprees during my exams. And once my exams are over, I feel ultra bored for not having anything to read. Yep, Dinky Mind is über insane!

So well, we were talking about my big Day. Well folks, today I happily celebrate my Independence Day as we've got a new 24/7 maid servant for home. Yayyyy! =D I'm no more an OLPM, no more a Cindarella! The feeling was just too great when I got to know our dearest maid was en route to our place this morning. No more dusting, mopping, laundry-ing or ironing. Wow! I'd be free. I'd be able to focus on my pending ass-ignments and reports. The feeling was driving me nuts. I wouldn't be bashed for untidy chairs and/or staying glued to my laptop and ignoring household chores. Imagine that!

Now when our maid arrived, momma left for grocery shopping. And I had to look after her (maid). I had to act like her shadow wherever she went. It was a huge responsibility, because I'm the kind whose bags and jewellery would be littered all over her room {and in the lounge, and mum's room, and sometimes kitchen as well [okay, everywhere I suppose (and why the heck am I using parenthesis within parenthesis?)]}. Phew! I'm out of brackets now! So, in short, I had to keep a keen, acute eye on her. And, of course, cram all my stuff in their respective cupboards as well.

So now I got time to get online. But I want to admit here I'm a bad supervisor. I always prefer doing my work myself. Or maybe getting someone do them for me and that someone shouldn't bug me where to put what, how and why. Since this maid is a new girl, I had to teach her everything and guide her where the mop was and where to find salt. She, coming from interior Sind doesn't know Urdu, and I, being a ... French-speaking person (=P) find it hard to communicate with her. Even then I try my level best but my stock of Sindhi ends after a few words, and then I foolishly stress on Urdu words - like saying jharoo in a loud voice - and expecting her to understand my language. And no, it's not funny at all. I mean I can't use sign language or hire an interpreter. So, I believe in a few days I'd surely be able to learn her language fully, if not able to teach her mine.

This language barrier sometimes proves to be very disastrous. Like today, I asked her to make a paratha for Bushi, to which she thought it's some special kind of paratha I'm asking her to make and she made a helpless face. *sigh*. And when I clearly explained her what exactly she had to, I left the kitchen and started typing this blog post. And a few moments ago when I went to see her progress, she was ready with four parathas! Four!!!! I mean who would eat 4 parathay? She knew all of us had had our lunch, and just Bushi was left, and still 4! Grrr! And with all those 4 parathay in her hands, her face was beaming as if she was holding an Oscar. I wish I could tell her that I wanted just one and not 4! *sigh*. Now I'm going to wrap the remaining 3 of them and slide them in the frigo.

Key Learning: Do you work yourself. Why on earth would you be gifted with two hands then? So, tmrw I'd do the laundry myself and I'd iron my week's clothes too. I just can't afford burnt dupattas or stained scarves.

For all those who think I'm an extraordinary person are so wrong. This post is not about my accolades or achievements, but it's about how I spoiled my Saturday morning =( *sigh*

Waking up at 9 am on a Saturday is not easy. It becomes even more difficult when you know the whole country's educational institutions are closed on Saturday except yours. Injustice, I know. Well, I am a morning person, but on weekends, my biological clock wakes me up at 8 or 9 am. So I dragged myself out of the bed at 9 and started dressing up for the darn "double" class of... let's forget it. I reached the campus at exactly 10 am - the time our class had to start. Boarded the shuttle, got dropped at uni, frantically ran corridors in search of our class and finally spotted it: all in 4 minutes time! Pushed the class door open a bit, heard a stern "You're late!", retreated and started bashing the rude proffy. First of all, we weren't informed where the class was, it wasn't the "usual room", and when we finally spotted the room (after peering inside almost every classroom), we were ... uh, kicked out! Like, I literally stood out of the crowd. Eeesh! [And thankfully we weren't asked to hold our ears or become murghay/ murghian] Heheh. After a few moments I realized it wasn't our proffy's fault. The day majority of students are late, they're allowed to enter. Today, just today, when I came a mere 4 minutes late, I wasn't allowed to enter. *sigh* So, are you getting my point? This, my friends, is called the Murphy's Law: Anything that can go wrong will go wrong (and at the worst possible time!)

Instead of whining for long, Rabia and I sat on the window sill and started thinking of our options and alternatives. A few moments later, Mehwish joined the club and we, the irritated trio, camped in one of the Discussion Rooms. After wasting a lil time and texting out friends in the class, we started cracking insane jokes. Lol. We had nothing better to do. Then Rabia and I called up our moms and told them we'd be returning home in a while cuz we were "kicked out". Lol. And our moms were like, "Good going!" Hehe. When we found out the car was outside to pick us up, we decided to go buy samosas. But again, Murphy's Law came into action. The samosay wala dhaaba was closed =( And then we realized Karachi University is closed on Saturdays now =( *Baahhhhh*

But well, I had a yummy naashta at home =P and now, I'm going to complete my 3-course breakfast by having a chocolate =P Hehehe. After an hour, I'd be off for shopping, while my other friends would be getting grilled in the ... let's not name the course, cuz I've heard our proffies google our names =(

I'm glad I'm home now. See, sometimes everything happens for a reason. =P You should only be knowing the art of turning negatives into positives.

I've never felt so addicted to books. And that day when I landed at Liberty Books, I almost got glued to the shelves and books. Momma had to drag me out of the store. *sigh* Why can't I just live in such a bookstore? =(

Now I must talk about the Ethics of Reading Books, like I once talked about the Ethics of Eating Chocolates. There is, for me, no joy in reading e-books. I just can't spend a single minute peering at the screen. I mean, for reading a book at least. Hence, the best way to read a book is to lie down on your bed or plump in your favorite couch and enjoy reading your book in the natural sunshine. You may drag your bed couch to the nearest or the most wide and beautiful window of your house and read your book then. Oh, and add a few roasted cashew nuts or Hershey's nuggets to this equation. Your day would be brightened like anything! <3

I've got a good collection of books, but they're like a tiny fraction of what I've seen in my Nana's room (and his other room, dedicated to books only). I wish I could steal Britannica's series and the series of Great Books. Oh man! *drools* But to save my collection, I avoid lending my books now. People hardly return. That's so not fair. And from that, I've now learned that a good reader borrows books and a bookaholic never returns them! ;)

And lately I've discovered something really interesting. Whenever I'm feeling down, a good book always lifts my mood. I start feeling better instantly. It's like a magical feeling. I still remember the day when I had a severe heat stroke and Papa brought me The Book of Virtues. And that was years ago. 10 or 11 maybe. Now I know what makes me feel better! =)

Cheerio folks! =)

PS: I may add to this post later on. We're having an unexpected power outage and my laptop's battery is taking its last breath. See, that's why I prefer reading hard copies! =)

It's 3 am and I just finished reading this book. You have no clue how dead and fatigued I was at 11 pm last night, and then I picked up this book to read a few chapters and ended up reading the whole of it. Ammazing! And honestly speaking, this is one of the best books I've ever read! I mean, those who know me know very well that I never stay awake late to finish reading a book. But this book kept my eyes glued to its pages.

I simply love the way this book is written. The characters are so much fun - Luke, Becky, not Suze, and that Alicia Bitchy long-legs. She really was a stupid cow. Haha. Oh, and how can I forget Lucy! I so wanted to kill her on Becky's behalf. I really couldn't sleep that night thinking of how she teased Becky. Arrrghhh!

Oops! Maybe I shouldn't be writing that much. All girls out there do read this book and all the books in the Shopaholic Series. And do NOT give me hints about what's going to be there in other books. Now shhhhh!

Now as a whole, after reading the book, I believe I have a bit of Rebecca Bloomwood (Becky) in me, because my Momma always asks me what am I going to do with such and such piece of crap stuff that I buy. This question should be banned actually. It always makes me go silent and think (and sometimes put back the adorable bags/ jewelery items/ and even paper clips back on the shelves) =(

Finalword: As for those who say, "Happiness is free", I request all bags, sandals, clothes and fashion accessories to be dirt-cheap (if not entirely free)!

Cheerio folks! =)

PS: I love books with happy endings!
PPS: The 17th chapter made me cry, and the rest of the book made me cry with laughter!

Do not get confused by the title please. It does not, in any way, mean I'm a chai-aholic and would swim in a chai pool just to freshen my senses. It's actually quite opposite. It's a pretty tragic scene I'm about to scribble here.

In our first break today, we all merrily went to the café to have tea (exclude me, please) and cookies (include me here) to wipe sleep off our eyes. So, we all sat and set up our breakfast stuff on table when suddenly Doctor Sa'ab tried to pull something out of her bag and accidentally nudged her poor teacup tea glass and whoosh! All the stupid, burning, hell-hot tea splashed on my neat khaki Wranglers! Oh. My. God. I was electrocuted. Never in my life have I ever touched tea and today the whole well-like tea glass's contents were on me. I was so transfixed I couldn't even scream properly, although I was feeling my leg burning badly. This was horrible. Sick. Hideous. Next class was to start in 10-minutes time and I had to get the chai off my khakis and sneakers (which was kind of impossible). Bahhh! There was this huge stain on my left leg. And then I decided to head to restrooms to clean this mess up. From the café to the ladies restroom, there comes a passage where an awful lot of students is lazying around. And I dreaded walking through that area. Sadly, I had no other alternative, and this was the shortest route possible. So, while walking through that horrible area, I spotted stupid students staring at me in the most awkward manner. Idiot cows and foolish jerks! I hope someday they face the same. Morons!

As I stepped in the restroom, a girl was styling her hair and she kind of froze when she saw me. Before she could infer anything, I sharply said, "It's chai only". But she still seemed incredulous. Stupid cow! Whatever. I shouldn't care about such people, right? Now since I had no hanky or even a darn tissue paper, I frantically rubbed my hand to wipe (or clean) the chai off. Imagine that. Oh, well, it was surely of no use, but it had a positive psychological effect on me. I felt a teeny bit cleaned. But still sick! I tried my level best not to let the wet trouser touch my burning skin but 'twas hard to manage. Uh, liiife!

I'm planning to write the management to install a hand dryer in restrooms. Situations like these are difficult to handle. Or maybe, and till then, I should carry my lil hair dryer with me next time. You never know when you might accidentally get a hot chai bath or a deliberate cold Sprite shower!

Cheerio folks! =)

PS: I didn't realize my last post was the 666th post of my glorious 6 years of blogging. =)
PPS: And it's so good to write after ages! I think I should write more often now. But darn crippling studies!

A few days back I tuned in the radio for some news update. In the next 10 minutes, I heard this of Ufone's new service's ad for around 15 times from all the different radio channels combined. And every time I heard it, it made me think even more strongly as to what are trying to cram in the mind of youngsters?

Ufone is aggressively marketing these days against Zong, Warid and Mobilink. Providing a plethora of services, it is hard for a customer like me to even remember 3 of all of them. The kind of ads they make are (to some extent) witty and fun to watch, but the original concept and the details of the new services sadly are not properly conveyed. I had to watch this ad for 3-4 times to fully understand what were they trying to offer.

So, that day, I heard a different ad of the same service - Background Music. Let me give you a rough idea of it (I can't find that clip on Youtube, and I haven't seen that ad on TV). There were two guys and they went to a restaurant for lunch/dinner. One guy's dad called him up and the second one tries to joke "What are you going to tell him now?" So the first one asks him to stay quiet for a while, presses a few buttons on his phone, recieves his dad's call and starts lying, "Dad, I'm at the library, working". And the service - Ufone's Background Music saves him as he had set a keyboard-clicking background music tone before answering his dad's call.

My question is: How necessary was it to lie to your dad about being at the (so called) library and not at a dinner party? What direction is our media trying to drift us in? By airing such ads, you're actually promoting the masses to lie as much and as easily as they want. You're advocating them to become better liars. We've already become a nation full of liars. And if we do not educate our countrymen to stop lying and become better humans, I'm sure someday we're completely going to lose our identity.

"He who permits himself to tell a lie once, finds it much easier to do it a second and third time, till at length it becomes habitual." ___ Thomas Jefferson.

Hair fall is the most common problem with girls, but fortunately supermarkets are littered with Hair-repair formulas and Livons besides shampoos and conditioners. I think its time that these companies need to come up with products which could help reduce eyebrow hair loss (or maybe just eyebrow loss). Whatever you call it, I'm suffering badly from it =( And apparently there's no remedy.

One might argue (the female readers especially) to use eyebrow pencils instead of whining so badly. Well, my dear readers, I think if I apply the pencil, I might end up looking like Zakoota djinn! And I certainly don't want that to happen. You see, I don't have a habit of using eyebrow pencils, so if I start using one (even slightly), my brows would look extraordinarily beautiful to others and Zakoota-type to me! Ever noticed those (pastry-looking) brides? Their brows are actually plastered with black pencils and all the people go "oooo" over their Cleopatra eyes! Eeks! For me, they look...well, beautiful, of course, but a bit too overdone. Bleeekh!

Getting back to my eyebrow loss now. =( Does anybody has any remedy for it? Puhlease do let me know before I lose them all and look like an alien =( Plus, today I weighed myself after ages. Like almost after a year, maybe. And I found out I've lost a Kg. [Pop Quiz: Guess how much do I weigh now? Hint: Weight is still in positive figures =P] Instead of being happy or sad over this lost weight, Dinky Mind is highly confused. She just can't figure out if she has lost a kg of her eyebrows or a kg of her pea-sized brain, or both! =(

I am not good at identifying red chillies at first glance. No no, I'm not color blind, it's just that I get to know that I used red chillies when I actually feel my tongue burning! At the age of 9, we went to dine out and had soup as starter. I dripped half the bottle of tomato sauce in my bowl and when I tasted, I had to drink half a gallon of water because it was not tomato sauce but chili sauce =(

Even after a decade, I'm still the same - no improvement at all! Today we went for shopping, and I was throwing tantrums to have the most unhygienically delicious chana chaat or I won't drive back home. At first I forgot where the darn stall was. And while driving back home (and after wasting half an hour in negotiations), I finally spotted the stall on the other side of the road. Parked the car, gave order, waited for chaat. And in the meantime ate Hobnob's patties; and they're so not good! :/ Anyway, the chaat came with all the lawazmaat. I poured in a good amount of all three types of chutneys, and sprinkled 2 types of chaat masalas. And when I had my first spoon, my eyes went all red and teary, ears got blood red, and nosey was going mad. Finally I realized the thing I considered as a type of chaat masala actually turned out to be red chili powder. Bahhhh!

The story is very simple. My original name, Umema A. Siddiqi, starts with U (just in case you still didn't notice :P). And unfortunately, U, being the *counts on fingertips* 21st alphabet, gets a lower place in the attendance sheet =( That day, our proffy was distributing final exam papers "according to Alphabetical Order" :/ And know what, we've got a huge class. Like 70 students! So my name gets a place in the last few names of the list. Please ignore the 2-3 Z-starting names like Zainab, Zahid or Zerrita. And regrettably, there are no V-, X-, and Y-names. Even the chances of Waqar, Wilayat or William are near to zero percent :( Hence, for your ease, my name comes at the end (almost) of the attendance list =(

Back to the exam results now. Instead of calling people to discuss marks according to marks obtained - and I would've been in top 3 - our dear proffy adopted the attendance sheet order! :/ Now I found this stupid rule at the name of Adnan Khan Afridi. Too bad, because Adnan's second in the list after Abid Iqbal. And for the next hour and a half - till my turn could come - I drummed fingers, gritted teeth, memorized the useless question paper, played noughts and crosses with my ownself, read an article on the proffy I detest the most, and finally started yawning and staring at the lousy, stupid wall clock which was moving at snail's speed :/

And while waiting (and besides doing the above-mentioned activities) I was suggested by a classmate of mine to change my name. And I had already thought of changing it from Umema to Omema, even just to beat Omer Khan and the followers in the list. You see, many people have their names starting from Muhammad or from the letter S - Sara, Safina, Sameer and So-on =P ... So, this classmate of mine and I decided to change my name to one of the following:

Muhammad Umema A. Siddiqi

Omema A. Siddiqi

Omema Shaikh (yeah, one of our classmates thinks I'm Shaikh)

Choudhry Umema

Abdul-Umema.

Malik Omema

Syed Umema

And I finally liked Choudhry Umema. Influential and impressive name one should have =P The reason why I didn't choose Abdul-Umema was solely because then my name would be on top of the sheet and I might miss my attendance if I step late in class. Hence, Choudhry Umema! =D

Today, while studying Finance, I put my playlist on shuffle and this song popped up. And I closed my books, plugged in my earphones, pressed the repeat button and peacefully heard this song with my eyes closed. Awww, ahmazing!!!

And here you go with the lyrics:

I feel You...
In every stone
In every leaf of every tree
you´ve ever grown
(That you ever might have grown)

I feel you...
In every thing
In every river that might flow
In every seed you might have sown

I feel you...
In every rain
In every beating of my heart
Each breath i take
(In every breath i´ll ever take)

I feel you...
Anyway...
In every tear that i might shed
In every word i´ve never said

I feel you...

Enjoy! =)

PS: Pray for my exams puhleaseeee.... =( These are finals and I'm so not taking them seriously =(

Ever heard that poem,"When you're happy and you know it, clap your hands"
In this world of constant change, this poem, unfortunately, has also changed to,"When you're sad and you know it... Bang your head!"

For all the non-Dinky-Mind-ers, I had my first final exam today. And it was of... *fasten your seal belts*... Quantitative Methods for Decision Making. Simply put, math! Haha. And for a person famous for 5+5=25, this course is no less than deliberately falling into a bottomless pit!

Only I know how I survived those 3 torturous hours in the examination room today with my dead brain and without having anything to eat! Last night while I was studying with my eyes half open and my mind completely shut, I was making some horrendous kind of calculation mistakes!

They say, practice makes a man perfect. But since I'm not a man, it's simply irrelevant of how hard I try to score well in Math-related courses. Last night, I set all my stationery items very neatly on the desk. Played with them for half an hour. Reminded of the exam next day, I frantically started flipping pages of my notebook, and kept doing it till I flipped all of them *sigh* =( And then I finally started doing a question. Now, not a difficult question it was, so I decided to use my rusted Dinky Mind instead of my sleek, black Casio. Bad decision. I ended up doing:

My dear readers, I know your eyes must have fell off their sockets, and your jaws must have dropped down too, but you see, that's the reason why we have erasers on pencils! =) I admit I stink at simple, mental math. I can't even mentally think what 4x4x4 is. My brain is just not made to absorb math! In essence, I screwed up my today's exam! It had to happen! When I looked at the question paper, it seemed all familiar. But as soon as I started attempting question, the paper automatically seemed to got translated in french Russian!

I like numbers. But as soon as they get bigger, they get scarier. Big things really aren't good. =(

I went to my oldie university to get registered for the convocation. Because I didn't have BU's ID card, I wore IBA's card - all they need to see is some kind of a card hanging down your neck! Silly! So I approached the entrance gate and the guard stopped me to check my tiny handbag with a metal-detector. He was about to say, "Go" but stopped.

So, I was saved! =D Took the visitor pass and walked in. But it was surprising to see all those students in proper dress pants and shirts. Oh, and proper shoes too - no slippers. Seemed like a strong wave of civilization swept through the nooks and corners of the university. Good change, I say. At least its better to look at people in proper, full clothes than looking here and there, guiding your emaan. [And no, people still don't stop practising PDA in proper dresses]. Lol. And know what, for the jeans and the good long shirt I was wearing, I was titled as "IBA ki bigri hui" by a friend of mine =D And in response I sighed at her 'tarsa-pan' =P Hahaha.

Oh, and when I was compiling all the necessary documents and filling the form, I saw people murmuring, "OMG, she's wearing jeans!!!!" Lol. And when I once walked past a bunch of students, I heard someone say, "Jeans??? How on earth did she manage to get in??? She's even got her ID card!!". Hahahah... And I turned around to see if my wrong dress code helped her faint or not =P

Although a friend of mine had told me that jeans are not allowed anymore. But you know me, Dinky Mind - the name says it all! =D Plus a goldfish memory! =P I plainly forgot.

I'm sure the university authorities had shown some clemency if the students were kind enough to stay in their pants and not digress limits of sanity and decency! And if they had stopped wearing crop tops (yes, I'm exaggerating) and skin-fitted jeans and see-through dresses, the situation would have been better. But pretty girls fulfill this 'shouq' of theirs by wearing straight pants and awful-looking coulottes with tinky minky shirts on their K2-like bodies! How should they be told to avoid wearing dresses that don't suit them! Grrr. Sillyness unlimited!

Now this reminds me of a point I once read in the IBA's policy of dress code. It stated, at the end of all those points that no-one follows, "Dupatta is recommended!" See, how politely they say it, and the girls follow this one point with great reverence. =D

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Disclaimer

This is my personal blog - extra emphasis on the word "personal". And I assure you I will write offensive things here, and I sure hope they offend you, but the fact remains, they are only my personal thoughts and my opinions. But in case you still have a problem with that, then you have me confused with some one who cares what you think.